


Bitchy

by IJM



Category: General Hospital
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-19 14:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22712167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IJM/pseuds/IJM
Summary: Elizabeth is noncompliant with Sam's demands.Bitchy may not be a great title, but it's how I feel right now.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	Bitchy

**Author's Note:**

> I don't get that angry very often, but something made me very angry and I had to express it, so I knocked this out in about 40 minutes in the middle of the night. Elizabeth vs. Sam..... the way Frizzies would like to see it go down.

Sam McCall sauntered to the nurses’ hub at General Hospital with an air of entitlement. She approached nurse Elizabeth Webber-Baldwin and, without even greeting her, demanded, “I need to hear the message that Drew left Franco.”

Elizabeth was wearing red scrubs in honor of Valentine’s Day and her first anniversary with her husband, Franco Baldwin, a world-famous artist who now worked as an art therapist in addition to creating new projects using multiple mediums. “Excuse me?” Elizabeth asked, cocking one eyebrow as she set a case file next to her computer workstation.

“The message on Franco’s phone. I need to know what it says.”

Elizabeth inhaled, reminding herself that she was at work and slapping Samantha’s teeth out would only get her reprimanded. “What phone message?” she asked. She knew _exactly_ what phone message. What she didn’t know was how Sam had any knowledge of its existence.

“When Franco was Drew, he left a message for Franco.” Sam’s grating voice sounded as desperate as her sentence sounded preposterous.

“Why do you believe that?” Elizabeth asked coolly. She absently typed on a word document, feigning disinterest in what Sam had to say.

Sam sighed. “Cam told Joss who told Carly who told Jason who told me. I know it exists,” Sam declared confidently.

“Whether it exists or not, what makes you think you have _any right at all_ to hear what it says?”

“He may have said something about Peter August that could help me overturn my conviction.”

Elizabeth glared at her. “If Drew had information that affected you, don’t you think he would have left it _for you_?”

“I never interacted with Franco when he was Drew. We had no connection. That Drew didn’t even know who I was.”

“Another reason I doubt there’s anything of any relevance to you.”

“It’s not just about me,” Sam was becoming more desperate. “I’m confident that Peter August is behind Drew’s plane going down, Andre Maddox being attacked, and me being framed for murder.”

“You _did_ murder Henry David Shiloh Archer,” Elizabeth reminded Sam, now looking right at the other woman.

“He was going to kill Jason.” Sam plead her case. “I had to do it.”

“Well, it’s too bad you _didn’t have to do it_ before that maniac kidnapped my son at gunpoint, drugged him, and intended to fry his brain before my husband begged to take Cam’s place. He lost four months of his life. I lost four months with my husband. My kids lost four months with the only reliable dad they’ve ever known.”

“I’m sorry about what happed to Franco,” Sam replied.

“Like hell you are,” Elizabeth bit back. “You don’t give a damn about Franco. In fact, you walk around this town like you’re entitled to whatever you want, whenever you want it, despite all the horrible things you have done to people. What’s your excuse, Sam? You conned men for money. You’ve screwed your way into a position of wealth and power—though obviously not enough power or you wouldn’t be talking to me. You’ve hurt people, killed people. You’re the reason Shiloh became a cult leader. He probably learned how to be a great con artist by watching you swindle his inheritance from his father. But do you apologize? Do you admit you’ve done wrong? Do you take responsibility for the mess you’ve made of other people’s lives for decades? Have you ever apologized to the families you bankrupted? You are a wrecking ball, Sam McCall. You leave destruction wherever you go.”

Sam opened her mouth, but Elizabeth didn’t give her a chance to speak. “You think you’re entitled to respect and power and money when you’re nothing but a vindictive, lethal whore. Your actions have affected my family over and over. Do you apologize? Never. Do you accept culpability in inflicting a rapist, swindling cult leader on the likes of sweet Willow Tait or your own sister?”

Once more, Sam tried to interrupt, but wasn’t allowed to speak. “Until you take a good hard look in the mirror at the kind of person you have been and still are, I don’t want you near my husband. Yes, he did horrible things. Yes, he hurt you and people you cared about. But he was sick, Sam. He had a brain tumor. If you had the sense God gave a cantaloupe, you’d know that a frontal lobe tumor can cause drastic personality changes and psychosis. But you won’t accept that he was sick. You won’t accept that he’s changed. He’s put himself on the line so many times for other people, for the whole town… he’s a _true hero_. And you won’t even entertain his numerous apologies to you. He’s a far better human being than you or the company you keep will ever be.”

Sam failed to interrupt once more.

“And, yet, when you were ill with toxoplasmosis and acting a bit insane yourself, had you killed someone, you would have expected to have your actions wiped clear with a diagnosis and some antibiotics. You should personally understand better than anyone else in this town how brain function can be affected by illness.”

“I know he was sick,” Sam finally got a few words out to acknowledge Franco’s illness. “I’ve seen that he’s changed,” she admitted.

“Then stop treating him like dirt. Treat him the way you want to be treated. I’m not telling you to have tea and crumpets together but stop acting like he’s less than human.”

“Are you finished?” Sam asked. Her tone was softer and less demanding.

“That depends on what comes out of your mouth next,” Elizabeth practically spat her words at the woman.

Sam was humbled and less demanding this time. “Honestly, Elizabeth. I truly believe Peter August is responsible for all those things I mentioned and for both putting the hit on Franco and Andre and killing the hitman to save himself. How else did he happen to be wandering through a restricted operating room area at just the right time? He ordered the hit. He’s the reason Scout lost her father. He’s the reason Franco lost his brother.”

Elizabeth inhaled sharply. Sam was hitting below the belt by mentioning Drew’s bond with Franco. But it was an effective hit, nonetheless. “I will present your theory to my husband. If he agrees to share whatever information he might have with you, one of us will let you know.”

“When—” Sam stopped mid question when she caught the deathly glare that Elizabeth was giving her with her expressive blue-gray eyes.

“I can assure you it won’t be tonight,” Elizabeth answered. “Franco and I have our one-year marriage anniversary to celebrate. Our priorities are each other, not the mess you’ve gotten yourself into by the lifestyle you’ve chosen to lead. You should be thankful to have parole and the opportunity to see your children.” Elizabeth took a file from beside her computer. “I have to finish my work for the day. If there’s any reason to contact you, we will. If not, you can kindly stay the hell away from me and every member of my family.” She spun around and started to walk away. “Good day,” she spat with such venom that the deceptively nice words were delivered as a nothing more than a curse.

Sam watched Elizabeth walk away. Even as her mind tried to spin everything Elizabeth said into excusable actions, she realized that the lies she told herself were futile. She had hurt a lot of people. Maybe Karma was kicking her ass on purpose.


End file.
